Bird of Paradise

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Bird of Paradise Page 11

by Katie MacAlister


  With that repulsive thought in mind, she had purchased not one, not two, but three beach cover-ups, all of which modestly covered her swimsuit-clad body from breast to mid-calf. True, she reflected as she padded down the wooden dock, looking for the sailboat named Calypso Sunset, the cover-up was ventilated with hundreds of holes intended to keep its wearer cool, but she had critically examined herself in the mirror and couldn't see that any untoward expanses of her flesh were exposed.

  Adam was already on board the sailboat, stowing a picnic basket. She greeted a petulant-looking Jesus, the cat once again peeved because he had been wrestled into a life jacket, as well as parted from his boon companion, and settled herself down to enjoying the unexpected pleasure of time spent with Adam at one of the resort's three secluded beaches that were reachable only by boat.

  “Do you know how to sail?” Adam asked as he handed her a life vest.

  “No, but it isn't that difficult, is it? Don't you just point the boat in the direction you want to go?”

  Adam coughed what sounded suspiciously like the beginnings of a laugh, but he quickly regained control of his esophagus and explained the principles behind sailing, ordering Hero to sit with her hand on the tiller. Before she knew it, they were heading out of calm waters protected by a reef to the north side of the island.

  Dolphins rode their bow, splashing and leaping ahead and alongside them with wild abandon. Hero leaned back, the wind ruffling her short hair, feeling an odd combination of peace and excitement at the day's outing. A short time later Adam pointed out their destination: a small, white-sand beach edging a corner of the wildlife sanctuary. It was lined with palms and dense vegetation that left a ten-yard wide swath of sand that stretched out into a small spit. Adam dropped anchor, carried the picnic basket, blankets, and Jesus to a shady spot at the base of the spit, then turned to wave at Hero.

  “Come on, the water's only waist high. We can have a swim before lunch.”

  “Hell,” she muttered quietly to herself, smiling and waving back at him. “I just knew this was going to happen. Well, make the best of it, Hero. You don't want to ruin this lovely time simply because you're too embarrassed to get in the water.”

  “Is something wrong?” Adam called out to her, peeling off the t-shirt and cotton shorts he wore over his teensy-tiny blue swimsuit.

  She closed her eyes at the sight of all of his marvelous tanned flesh, flesh that called to her, flesh that she craved to touch and taste and stroke. Oh, no, nothing was wrong. Nothing other than there was much too much Hero for her liking, and most of that dyed a bronze that she suddenly realized made her look as if she had a severe attack of jaundice.

  “Just coming,” she said, opening her eyes to see him swimming toward her. “Eek! No, stop, go back!”

  He paused midway to the boat and stood up. As he predicted, the water was only waist-high. “What's wrong?”

  “Nothing, I'm coming, you just have to…erm…turn around for a moment.”

  “Turn around?” He frowned and started half swimming, half walking toward her. “Why? You've got your suit on under that, don't you?”

  “Yes, but I have to take the cover-up off to get in the water. Please don't come any closer.”

  He ignored her and kept coming. “So?”

  She would not die of embarrassment, she would not die of embarrassment…”If you don't mind, I do not want you watching when I get in the water.”

  “I do mind,” he said, reaching the side of the boat, swaying slightly with the gentle roll of the waves. “And it's about time we had this out. I don't know why you want to hide yourself from me, but you don't have to. There are no cameras here now, it's just you and me.”

  “Yes, but—”

  “I've told you I think you're beautiful, and you know what sort of an effect you have on me. It's about time you realized how stunning you are.”

  Hero recalled rubbing up against him the prior evening when he kissed her good-night. Oh, she knew she had an effect on him, but… “Yes, but you haven't seen all of me. And I don't want you to, so please do the gentlemanly thing and turn around so I might get into the water.”

  Once she was in the water, she'd be safe. She'd be half covered. She just wouldn't go into the very shallow water, or she would paddle around until he had to go pee before streaking for the safety of the blanket he'd spread out and its accompanying stack of beach towels.

  He squinted up at her, his hand shading his eyes against the bright sunlight. “You won't get in the water unless I turn around?”

  She nodded. He sighed pointedly, but turned around. Hero approached the ladder leading down the side of the sailboat into the water, peering at him suspiciously, but he remained looking in the opposite direction. Halfway down the latter she peeled the cover-up off, and jumped the rest of the way into the warm ocean.

  “Now,” he said, turning around and wading toward her with a dangerous glint in his lovely blue eyes. “You and I are going to have a little talk.”

  “Talk?” she asked weakly, her knees melting under his gaze. “You want to talk?”

  “In a manner of speaking,” he said in a growl, wrapping his arms around her and pulling her up to his chest seconds before his mouth descended upon hers.

  Hero's senses swam. His tongue was so hot, so demanding, she could do nothing but moan softly against his lips, and open her mouth to him, allowing him to sink into her and fill her mind with the addictive taste of him; She wanted him, she wanted him not just then, but for the rest of her life.

  The water was warm around them, but his hands were warmer, stroking the bare flesh of her shoulders and arms, smoothing a path down her back and around her sides, then up to where her breasts ached for his touch.

  And still he kissed her.

  Pressed against each other, they moved together in the waves, their bodies gently swaying with the rhythm of the water around them, but everywhere his body touched hers, she felt as if she were on fire. Unable to stop herself, she let her fingers sculpt down the long planes of his back, reveling in the sensation of his sun warmed, sea-dampened skin that lay like velvet over thick ropes of muscles.

  He was so beautiful, and she was so—”Stop!” she cried, suddenly pulling back from him, tearing herself from the hot lure of his mouth.

  “No,” he said, his voice a low rumble that echoed deep within her, touching all of those magical little places that only a man could touch. He tangled the fingers of one hand into her wet hair, and tipped her head back until her lips were offered up as a sacrifice to their passion.

  “You can't…I don't want…” The words came out jumbled in between gasps of air, but he had no mercy.

  “Yes, you do, just as much I as I want to. Have you ever made love in the water, Hero?” Her eyes widened as he leaned down to nip her lips. “I promise you it'll be something you won't soon forget.”

  He took possession of her mouth once again, and this time it was too much. She couldn't keep fighting him, fighting the need that she had for him, fighting her love. With a groan that came from her soul, she dug her fingers into his shoulders and pushed his tongue from her mouth, only to invade his. He moaned as she writhed against him, tasting him, teasing him, nipping at his lips and sucking his tongue, aware that his hands were busy stripping the swimsuit from her upper body, but for once uncaring because she knew that as long as they stayed in the water, she would not be entirely exposed to his view.

  “Oh, Hero, my beautiful Hero, how can you think you are anything but desirable?” Adam kissed a hot path down Hero's breastbone, setting her skin alight. “You are a goddess, meant to be worshiped and venerated.”

  His hands tugged on her swimsuit until suddenly she stood free of it, her bare skin surrounded by warm water on the back side, and Adam on her front. He tossed the wet garment into the boat, and stifled her protest with his mouth.

  Flames licked from his fingertips as they danced down her spine, the fire heightened, not extinguished by the soft caress of the sea on
her sensitive flesh. His hands were everywhere, stroking her behind, swooping along the curves of her hips, teasing her breasts until her nipples were hard and aching in the heat of his palms.

  “Talk to me,” he murmured in her ear as he kissed and suckled the spot behind her ear. Hero moaned in response. “Tell me what you're feeling.”

  “Can’t. No air.”

  He chuckled as he pulled away from her long enough to kiss her waiting lips once more. “I know the feeling. There doesn’t seem to be enough air on this beach, does there?”

  She frowned at him. “Why is it you can still talk while I’m completely witless? I must not be doing something right.”

  “Oh, baby, you’re doing everything right,” he crooned, his fingers hard on her hips as he pulled her to him, plundering her mouth for another one of those brain-numbing kisses. She arched her back against him, her breasts rubbing sinuously against his wet chest, and realized what it was she was doing wrong. “Honey, you couldn’t possibly be any beh…beh…behhuuuUUUUUUUUHHH!”

  She smiled at the look of astonishment and absolute bliss on Adam’s face as she stroked his Speedos, curling her fingers into the waistband and tugging them off. She could almost hear the boing as his penis—more erect than she thought humanly possible, visions of the redwood forest coming immediately to mind—sprang free of the skimpy material.

  “So, it wouldn’t please you at all if I did this?” she asked, grasping his heated length with both hands and mapping out every bump and contour.

  “Haaaarng,” he groaned, swallowing hard.

  He was so hard and soft at the same time, velvety smooth skin riding over steel. Hot steel. Hot steel that spasmed quite a bit.

  “I suppose, then, you wouldn’t like it if I were to do this, either?” She reached lower, dipping at the knees to take his balls in her hand, gently scratching her nails along the tender flesh at the same time she took one insouciant brown nipple in her mouth.

  “Gwaaahhnan,” he burbled, his eyes rolling up in his head as his hands spasmed helplessly. She bit gently, so very gently on his tiny little nipple nub, and was rewarded with his body going stiff.

  “CONDOM!” he bellowed.

  She blinked at him, then began patting herself down, just in case a condom magically appeared on her person. Alas, the condom fairies were busy elsewhere that day. “I don't have one!” she wailed.

  “Boat!” Adam said, maintaining his hold on Hero as he lunged awkwardly toward the side of the boat. His arm flailed around in the net bag sitting on the seat, then emerged with a shiny silver packet in his hand.

  “Hurrah!” applauded Hero, and leaned forward to grab the condom from him at the same time he leaned forward to apply the slippery bit of latex. There was an audible “thunk” as their heads cracked together.

  “Oh, Adam, I'm so sorry,” Hero apologized, rubbing her forehead.

  “Never mind that,” he snarled, “the condom's escaping! Quick, grab it!”

  Hero snagged the white object, then turned to apply it, but as his penis was wet, and the condom was slick with lubricant, and the beastly thing kept popping off him. All the while she was trying to get it on, Adam twitched, groaned, and sobbed pleas for her to finish before he died.

  “Done!” she said at last, giving him a beatific smile.

  “Are you sure?” he asked, his jaw tense and tight with strain.

  “Pretty certain. Mostly certain. Maybe I should just check it—”

  “Now!” he bellowed, startling her.

  “Now?”

  “Now!!” He grabbed her by the hips and pulled her close to him and up in one smooth move. Her breasts rubbed on his wet chest, the heat of him suddenly sending the slow burn inside her into a raging inferno. She wrapped her legs around his waist, digging her heels into the hard muscle of his behind. She felt the hard, pointy bit of him probing her, bumping against her, nudging her everywhere but the spot she wanted him, craved him, needed him. He poked again, a whimper escaping from her mouth as the touch of him drove the inferno inside her into a veritable firestorm that threatened to burn her up on the spot.

  “Lower,” she cried, almost sobbing with frustration. Why couldn’t the man aim properly? “No, up a little. To the left. No, too far, back to the right. Now you’re too high again—”

  “For the love of God, woman, help me,” he pleaded, desperation mingling with desire and need and something that looked so much like love that it made her want to burst into God Save the Queen. Help him? Help him? Of course! Why didn’t she think of that? She reached between them and placed him where he was guaranteed a heartfelt welcome, then slid her fingers into his wet hair and groaned her pleasure into his mouth as he sank into her.

  They stood like that for a moment, savoring the sensation of being joined, but soon Adam was pounding into her hard and fast, all gentleness gone, but that was just fine with her. She dug her heels into his behind, urging him on, clenching all those inner muscles she rarely ever had a use for around him until she squeezed a moan of absolute ecstasy out of his adorably manly lips. She rocked against him, sobbing now with pleasure as the fire inside her burned scarlet, then white hot, knowing that she was going to explode into a thousand little fragments—sated and happy fragments to be sure, but still she was certain she was going to die from the rapture of their joining.

  She didn’t die. She roared out his name so loud Adam was deaf in the ear nearest her mouth for a week, but he never once complained. The joy he found in her arms, in her eyes, just plain in her was more than enough compensation for something as meaningless as a functioning eardrum. Her body tightened and shuddered around him, driving him on to find his own moment of absolute pleasure, a moment that went beyond anything he’d known and entered the realm of mythic eroticism. He came hard, arching his back and pumping into her every drop of life he had to give, filling her with his heart and soul and love and anything else he thought she might want. He gave so much of himself, he wasn’t sure he there would be anything left of him, but when the world stopped spinning around him, when he regained enough of his wits to realize that he was standing waist deep in the Caribbean ocean, the woman he loved draped limp and wet over him, he knew that somehow, everything would be all right. He had Hero, nothing else mattered.

  True, he staggered as he waded back to the beach, her arms and legs still wrapped around him, but he figured she wouldn’t hold that against him. Not even Superman would have been able to walk straight after such an experience.

  Hero stirred in his arms as he walked toward shore. “Did I die? Is this heaven?”

  He mustered together enough strength to move his grin muscles into place. “Not heaven, just paradise.”

  She kissed a lazy line along his jaw. “Mmm. Paradise. With Adam. That must make me Eve?”

  “Well…” He stopped long enough to kiss her silly. He loved her when she was silly. “I think there are some apples in the basket.”

  “Good. You're going to need a lot of sustenance. Adam?”

  “Hmm?”

  She bit his chin gently. “That girlfriend of yours was dead wrong.”

  He looked down at the woman in his arms. “She was?”

  “About you being a poor lover. You're not, you're very, very….mmmrowr!”

  He grinned. He'd never been called mmmrowr before, with or without the implied italics. It felt good. It felt damn good.

  Hero suddenly pushed back from his chest, looking around them wildly. “What are you doing?”

  He grinned again. He loved her when she was bemused. “I’m carrying you to the blanket in the very best romantic hero tradition.”

  She struggled against him, unwrapping her legs and trying to drop down his body. “No! The water’s only up to your knees! Stop!” Suddenly she went rigid, then slapped a hand over his eyes, her legs wrapping themselves around his hips again. “No, don’t stop! Take me to the towels!”

  He laughed out loud. He even loved her when she made no sense. “Baby, I can’t see where I
’m going.”

  “That’s not all you can’t see.”

  He turned his head until her hand slid from his eyes, saying nothing until he stood holding her over the blanket.

  “Hero—”

  “I don’t suppose you’d care to bend down and let me grab a couple of those towels before you let go of me?”

  She was clinging to him like a limpet. He felt a rumble of laughter start in his chest, but knew she would be offended if he laughed at something that she did not find funny. “No, I’m not going to let you cover yourself up. Hero, I love you. I have since that first day when you ambushed me in the customs room. I love you and I want to spend the rest of my life with you. I don’t care what you look like. You’re beautiful to me, all of you, every last square inch of you, and if you’d just loosen the stranglehold you have on me, I’d be more than happy to show you just how much I worship you.”

  She mumbled something into his neck.

  “What?”

  “There’s too many square inches of me.”

  “No, baby, there’s not, there’s just the right amount,” he said, but knew when he felt the hot tears on his neck that it was going to take more than words to convince her. He sank to his knees on the blanket with her still clinging to him, draping a beach towel around the back of her until she grabbed the ends and pulled it around her front. She slid off his legs, looking anywhere but at him, trying to pull the towel down over her as she moved to the far edge of the blanket.

  He wouldn’t let her.

  “Here,” he said, pulling her back to him as he stretched out on the blanket. She frowned at him and clutched the towel closer.

  “You’re not wearing anything.”

  “I know.” He ran a fingertip along the curve of her breast before it disappeared into the towel.

  Her breath hitched. “Don’t you think that’s a little risqué? What if someone should see you?”

  “No one can see us.” He rubbed his leg against hers, leaning over her and throwing his heavy thigh over her legs.

 

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